The Ghost Of You
by shorterthanfrankiero
Summary: A during-and-after of the music video for The Ghost of you music video by My Chemical Romance. I put this in misc. movies because I guess this could be considered a movie. I know I don't have the relationships accurate, but I wrote this a long time ago.
1. And The War Has Begun

Gerard:

"Töte den Feind! Sie ihr Blut vergossen Lassen!" a soldier with a heavy German accent whooped. It made sense. He was German, trying to kill my team, my Mikey, and me. And we were trying to do the same to him. He succeeded with one out of his three objectives. Pretty much two, but I'm still here.

I was on Omaha beach, Normandy. We were suffering a lot of casualties and we had drastically less weapons than them. But we still fought. Shrapnel whistled past my ears and bombs created flashes of light in my eyes. I was in such an uncomfortable position, sitting on my left leg and pretty much popping my knee out of place. I turned back towards the Germans and fired off a few rounds. I eliminated a few who trying to kill me. We were the Omaha sector, the first round of American soldiers dispatched. Mikey sat behind a giant piece of tank debris that was quite a distance away.

"Gerard, I can't go over there! It's too dangerous!" he tried to shout over the constant ringing of large weaponry. I sat behind a sand and barbed-wire rampart that was quite a distance away from Mikey, my best friend. A hand grenade exploded behind me, knocking me onto my stomach. I couldn't breathe. I gasped for breath for what felt like hours.

"You have to run, Mikey! I need you! Please! You have to stick with us!" I already felt sore all over. This was torture, and it was only the beginning. I was again upright and shooting so many people, taking so many lives…

"I'll get shot, Gerard! I know you don't want to lose me, and I don't want to lose me either! Just hang in there!" Mikey fired a few shots in the general direction of the adversaries. I prayed he would be here and alright.

Mikey:

I was so scared. I don't know how Gerard made it. He's just lucky, I guess.

"Hold on Gerard, I'm coming!" I yelled. I decided not to let fear drive me away now. Not in the middle of war. My team needed me. A tingling sensation filled my torso as I smothered all fear inside of me as much as I possibly could. I puffed up my chest and started to run towards Gerard and the Captain, just to fail once again.

Gerard:

"Mikey! No!" I screamed. Mikey collapsed to the ground, a large chunk of his stomach missing. Blood spattered around him like a terrible fountain of death. I couldn't sit there and watch him die.

"I'm coming Mikey! Don't let up on us!" I gasped, now sobbing and blinded by tears. I started to surge forward, but was pulled back by my arms.

"Don't go, Gerard. We'll just lose two lives as opposed to one," said Captain Iero. He and another soldier pinned my arms to the cold ground. I started screaming, shouting, crying. I can't sit here and lose my Mikey. He was one of the only things I had left in this cold world. My arms tingled numbly, but I still pulled and tugged to try and save him. He lied on the gravelly earth, screaming of pain. I had to save him. It felt like someone shot me through the heart, and I had to suffer for him.

Mikey:

It almost felt like yesterday.

Gerard was sitting awkwardly by himself while the others flirted with the girls across the room. It was the day before deployment. Nurses and captains and commanding officers sat on the opposite side of the soldiers. I snuck over beside him. "Nervous?" I said, startling him. He nodded fiercely, like he was determined to answer me as truthfully as possible. I nodded gently back, looking away. A man walked on the stage to the center.

"Ladies and gentleman, we are now here to send these brave boys off to our base in France to repel Nazi forces. Uh, does anyone have any music experience in here?" he turned around to prove the absence of a proper band. There were only instruments. I raised my hand, along with Gerard, Captain Iero, and a few other soldiers. He waved us up and handed us some sheet music.

"You only have to play this. Have at it," he explained promptly. I picked up a beautiful bass, but it had no licensing name on it. So, I called it the Cherrywood because it was kind of a cherry red mixed with oak wood. Gerard took the vocals, I stepped up to the other microphone, Captain Iero grabbed the rhythm guitar, Sergeant Toro picked the lead guitar, and one other soldier got drums. I looked briefly at the music and dropped it on the ground, as did Gerard. I had mine memorized, as he appeared to have also done. I started off and the sound out of the Cherrywood was so smooth and silky. It was beautiful. Gerard was pretty good too. The other soldiers danced with the nurses, and we played along in harmony. When we finished, the soldiers lowered their arms and left, not looking back. We climbed off the stage as the women stood, crying for the man they had danced with. As we followed them, I looked back, just in case I never came back.

"You're good," he said softly on the boat to our base. He was staring straight ahead, presumably at nothing. I smiled.

"Thanks. You did good, too. Did you memorize the lyrics?" I asked. That was still gnawing away in my head. He nodded gently, still deep in thought and spacey.

"We should start a band. When we come back," he suggested, now looking at me. He had blazing green eyes that looked wise and naive at the same time.

"That's a good idea. I like your positive thinking."

"It's just a band request."

"I meant about when you said 'when we come back' and not 'if we come back.' I admire that."

"Oh. Thanks. I guess."

Shyest kid I ever met. But he is also eager to share his thoughts and feelings. Like on the fifth day in France. We were in the barracks, because of curfew. Everyone was already snoring quietly.

"Do you have any kids?" Gerard asked softly. He was one bunk above me.

"Yeah, one. His name is Thomas. My wife, Alicia, had him on June 4th. Already three, my boy is. Want to see him? I got a picture with me now, actually," I offered.

"Sure," he replied and gingerly took the picture. A few seconds later, his hand fell again with two pictures instead of my one.

"There's me and my girlfriend. She's pregnant, we just don't know when the baby's due. We just got the results back and then I was shipped off here." The picture was black and white, but it was more of a brown and tan color. It had been folded many times, judging by the creases. He had his arm wrapped around a beautiful young woman in her early twenties, like him. They smiled genuinely and affectionately. It reminded me of us, Alicia and me, when we were first dating in high school.

"Do you think we'll be back before their birthdays?" he asked me. I thought for a second.

"There certainly is a good chance of it, if we ever get this over with."

"I hope Lynz doesn't have her baby before I get back. I want to be there to see my baby's eyes open; to watch him witness the world for the first time. I wanted to propose before I left, but this all happened so quickly. I had just come home from looking for a ring, when the letter arrived. She got so sad and everything, but she knew I had to come. I owe a debt to my country and this is how I'll repay it, I guess." I absorbed his words. To not even be there when your child is born? I couldn't have done it. I would have ran or swam or walked or crawled back to make sure I witnessed Thomas come into this world.

"Have you written any letters to her?" I asked. This time, he was the silent one.

"I was thinking about it, and I really want to, but she was getting so worked up about me leaving. If she got a letter in the mail and it had anything identifying it as a government letter, she would bust into tears. I can't make my baby girl cry," he said, his voice getting groggy. This was probably a tender subject for him still.

"What should we name the band?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away.

"Huh?"

"The band we're making when we get discharged. What should we name it?"

"Oh, I remember now. I actually had one, but I don't think you'd like it."

"What is it?"

"The Rebels."

"I like it; very punctual and sharp."

"What?" I don't think he knows what that means.

"I said it was very deep. I can tell it has meaning."

"Thanks," he replied. He sounded tired. As soon as that thought registered, I heard slight snoring sounds coming from above me. I smiled and went off to sleep too.


	2. Death Lingers Over The Fallen

A cold, numb feeling spread through my side and brought me back to the real, present world. It felt… tingly. Like someone gave me Novocain. It didn't necessarily hurt, I just acknowledged that something was missing. I hit the ground hard. I then felt the immense sting ripping through my whole upper body. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by fear and agony. It burned and twisted, like some kind of demonic fire that had meant to demolish me slowly. Then, the world flipped upside down and faded to a quiet black.

Gerard:

"Mikey! Mikey! I have to get my Mikey…" I screamed. The medic was uselessly pushing a balled rag on the wound, just pushing out even more blood, making Mikey wail louder. I couldn't take it. He can't possibly be a registered doctor. Sand flew past my face from the blasts of machine gun bullets. It was so close to us. Frankly, I didn't care. I just cared about my Mikey. My best friend.

"We have to move! Get up, Sergeant Way! That's an order!" barked Captain Iero. I did eventually stumble to my feet. Tears still swam in my eyes, so everything was blurred. I took one step and tumbled back to the Earth. I cried out, not because of my fall, but the resurfacing of Mikey's predicament. It won't sink in, will it? This'll be swimming in my head years after this, won't it? I whimpered and pushed myself to my feet again. Instead of following the Captain, I started sprinting towards Mikey, who was still moaning with agony. Something smashed against my head, throwing me violently to the hard soil. I yelped in pain and frustration, I was getting nowhere. I thought my head would explode. I started to dig my nails into the side of my head, hoping that the pain I gave would distract from the stars that I saw. I couldn't see. Everything was turning blood red. I had to save… my… Mikey.

"Mikey," I whispered.

Mikey:

I only saw Gerard get batted down with a large mass of something. It was so fast that it stung my head. I shouted for him,

"Gerard! Get up! Don't leave me here! Gerard!" I instantly felt sore. That took a lot of energy. I was exhausted. The hole in me was proving to be just too much.

Gerard:

I heard Mikey yelling. He's still alive. Get up Gerard, get up. Go to him. Go save him. Go and save yourself. I clambered up and cleared the redness from my view. Omaha had already moved ahead. They left me and Mikey for dead. The only company we had now was the bodies and the medic, who was bandaging Mikey's wound. He tied one more knot and sprinted away to rendezvous with the sector. I limped over to him.

"Mikey, Mikey, it's okay now. I'm here. It's all going to be okay," I said, bringing tears of relief and joy to my face. I fell to my knees and looked at Mikey. He opened his eyes just a crack and he smiled painfully.

"Gerard. You're here. Are we home yet? Are we back in Philly?" he grunted, blood creeping out of him mouth. I smiled back.

"Not yet Mikey. Just hang in there, we'll make it. We'll go back and the first thing we'll do is go watch a baseball game. I hope the Cubs are still hammering out homers. We'll even go to the game and get seats right behind the dugout, so that we can get everybody's autograph. We'll have the best time of our lives. Oh, and we can even start on our band. The Rebels must carry on. We'll get Captain Iero and Sergeant Toro like before we came here. Everything will be normal again," I assured him weakly. He sighed and closed his eyes again.

"Normalcy; sounds good." He relaxed and his labored breaths slowed to nothing. My face dropped and I yelled out in anger and sadness.

"Mikey! Come back, come back to me! We still have to watch our game! You have to make it back! Think about Alicia! Alicia and little Thomas! They're waiting for you Mikey!" I bawled. I fell on his body, wracked with disbelief. I sobbed heavily and sorrowfully. He can't leave me here, with the cold truth of life.

Mikey:

At least it didn't hurt long. Not for me, anyways.


	3. Spun Out Of Control

Gerard:

It's hard, these days are. I got through, somehow. I made it home. Home to Lynz. But after Mikey, everything went wrong. I picked out the most beautiful ring I could find, and proposed to Lynz. She accepted, but we had no wedding. Just paperwork. We were newly engaged. She hadn't given birth yet, but was close. Mikey missed his son's birthday that one day, what seems like so long ago. But it was actually just about five weeks earlier.

So life seems pretty peachy, right? Wrong. I developed depression. Lynz handled it surprisingly well. I was on medication. A few days later, Lynz was rushed to the hospital. She had a miscarriage, gave a still-born. She cried and cried and cried. She started taking my depression medicine with me. Then one day she looked me in the eyes, welled up some tears, slid the ring off her slim finger, and threw it back at me, like it was a hot coal or a poisonous spider. Her face was twisted into a look of pure rage, and she rushed out the door quicker than I could react.

I fell deeper. The black hole of darkness will never end, will it? I got two letters from Alicia and Thomas six days ago. Thomas had a letter, asking how his daddy is doing and how long he was going to be at my house. Alicia wrote one too, and she blamed me for Mikey's death. She believes that I could have helped him. She even came to my apartment. Her eyes were empty and dead. She raised a crooked finger at me.

"It's all your fault, boy." Thomas appeared from behind Alicia. He looked inside my apartment.

"Where's daddy?" he asked, so innocently oblivious to Mikey's absence.

"He's still in France, Thomas. He has to stay there because of this _man_ here. He took your daddy," she spat. I said nothing, not breaking my long silence. My gaze was as lifeless as hers, and she knew it. Her eyes sparked with sympathy, but the spark died and she herded Thomas away. I still stood there in the doorway to my apartment, frozen in the iciness of my own thoughts. I slowly shut the old door again and stared at the wood. It reminded me of Cherrywood, Mikey's bass. He told me about it. It was the one he named at the departure ceremony. I banged my spinning head against the door and let tears fall for the first time in a long time.

It's been almost a month since Normandy. Yesterday, I found a package in front of my door. All it said was 'You're welcome. Captain Iero and Sergeant Toro' I was confused, because I hardly talked to him because of his high rank. What could he possibly be giving me? It wasn't even my birthday or close to it. The box was big and unmarked, so he must've dropped it off earlier. I lugged it inside and set it down on the island in my kitchen. It made a weird twanging noise, like it was hollow. I dug my pocket knife out of my pocket, flipped out the blade, and slid easily through the clear tape on top. The cardboard flaps popped open a bit, and the head of a guitar showed. I quickly pulled the instrument out. I couldn't believe my eyes.

It was Cherrywood, Mikey's beautiful bass. They must've had it sent to me instead of Alicia. I was glad it wasn't to her, she probably would've burned it or something. I didn't want to, but I pulled the bass out and strummed it softly. The sound that wafted out of the strings was so very smooth. It made me smile, seemingly for the first time in my life.

But it wasn't all happy after that. The Nazis came back; along with Mikey. Mikey kept dying and dying on my living room carpet, despite my pleads and bribes. The Nazis would never stop looming over me while I slept. They kept killing Mikey on my living room carpet every single second of every day. The death and violence episodes never stopped coming after me. So, I stopped for them.


	4. Dead!

Lynz, Gerard's ex-wife:

I shouldn't have left him. But it was his fault. He wasn't here. I stressed out. I wasn't ready for a child. Now I know that I could have been, only if I were with the right guy. The death of our baby. Heart wrenching? Extremely. My fault? No. He did it. He killed my first baby. Our first baby.

I shouldn't really be thinking about this right here, right now. It isn't really a place for negative thinking. But those are the only things I can think of right now. But he was so sweet. Why did he have to go too? We could've worked it out after a while; tried again. But when I walked into the house the smell of death lingered.

Yes, this is Gerard's funeral. My fault? Yes. I can say that much.

Alicia, Mikey's Wife:

He's dead. He's finally dead. It's gone! The thing that took my husband away is dead!

_At the end of the world,_

_Or the last thing I see._

_You are never coming home._

_Could I? Should I?_


End file.
